


Values Scale

by Cassidae



Series: Color By Number [4]
Category: King Falls AM (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Dad Friend Sammy Stevens, F/M, M/M, Oh but there's also, Platonic Soulmates, Romantic Soulmates, and they talk about it but also Not, sammy and mary are in very similar but very different situations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 22:14:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16752439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cassidae/pseuds/Cassidae
Summary: Value:the relative lightness or darkness of a color. It is an important tool in the way that it defines form and creates spatial illusions.Mary hears about Sammy before she meets him. It happens when Tim doesn’t come home that night.She wonders where he is and what they’re doing to him. She wonders if Tim will be the only one, or if someone else will be taken next. She wonders if they’ll be able to see it coming, or if that will make any difference. It hadn’t for Tim.She wonders if they’re all just helpless.[ AU where you see in black and white until you meet your Soulmate and then you see in full color. Or, at least you should. ]





	Values Scale

**Author's Note:**

> **Note:** Reading the previous works in this series is highly recommended, though shouldn't be strictly necessary.
> 
> But if you don't, just know that Ben and Sammy are platonic Soulmates while Sammy/Jack and Ben/Emily are romantic Soulmates. When you have multiple Soulmates, you only get some of the colors with each meeting - in this case, half.

Mary hears about Sammy before she meets him.

It happens when Tim doesn’t come home that night. A pair of police officers darken her doorstep instead. They tell her that her husband went missing on live radio. The last people to speak to him were the hosts, Sammy Stevens and Ben Arnold. There are no leads yet, but they’re doing everything they can.

They’re very sorry.

After that it’s a parade of casseroles and well-wishes and, worst of all, condolences. If Mary were anything less than a rightly-raised woman she’d slam the door in the faces of the latter, dinner dishes be damned.

How _dare_ they speak to her that way, as if they know anything. These are her neighbors, her community, and all they do is surround her on all sides with pity. She accepts help when it’s offered, because she is gracious and not too prideful, but every moment in a room with them is stifling and every moment without them, without _him,_ is empty.

She is the rock for her kids even though she has lost hers, because her job as a mother will always come first. They’re allowed a few days off from school, but still go back the next Monday. Bella and TJ understand the _what_ of what happened, that Daddy’s gone, if not the _why_ or _how;_ which is about all anyone else can say about it, too.

Twenty-four, forty-eight, and seventy-two hours pass with no progress on the case. She’s watched enough TV to know the odds are now… small. Very small. But she reminds herself that this is an unusual case; they have a tape of the abduction, for one. Not that the officers will call it that. But everyone else will, when they think she can’t hear.

She wonders where he is and what they’re doing to him. She wonders if Tim will be the only one, or if someone else will be taken next. She wonders if they’ll be able to see it coming, or if that will make any difference. It hadn’t for Tim.

She wonders if they’re all just helpless.

(Taking charge of one’s own fate has never been an easy task, though if she’s done it once before, surely she can do it again?

_Know thy enemy,_ they say. Do what you must, I say, even when facing the unknown.)

********

 

By now, Mary’s sure that half the town has paid a visit.

Everyone in the neighborhood, from church, and the PTA has already stopped by. So, she really doesn’t know who to expect when there’s a knock at her door late one afternoon. It won’t be the police again – they had promised to call her immediately if anything comes up, and she’s checked her phone every half hour. She wracks her brain for anyone she’s even passingly met that might bother to come by and only has a few names in mind by the time she’s turning the knob.

Benjamin Arnold isn’t one of those names. Nor does she expect the tall stranger standing just behind him.

Mary tries to cover her surprise quickly. “Hi, Ben. And… you are?” She asks the stranger, although she has a pretty good guess already. They hardly ever get new people in King Falls, after all.

“Sammy Stevens, ma’am,” He answers, just like she expected.

Faced with the last people to speak to her husband before his abduction that’s turned her life upside down, she musters up enough energy for a smile. “Just call me Mary, hon.”

Maybe a small part of her is transported back to that night, with two different men on her doorstep, and wants to shut the door on them before she has to relive the night through their eyes as well. But a larger part of her says that the least she can do is hear out these boys who’ve come to her with hangdog faces and thankfully empty hands.

“Why don’t y’all come inside?” She suggests, taking a step back to allow them in. Her mama would never excuse rudeness, no matter how tired she is. 

“Thanks, Mary,” Ben says as he shuffless in, followed by Sammy mumbling his own polite thanks. “You, um, you look-” He starts, but Mary raises a hand to silence him. It works like a charm, his jaw snapping shut with a _click._

“Ben Arnold,” She growls with all the authority of a parent, even if he’s not her child. “If you’re about to _lie_ to me by telling me I look ‘good’ when I feel like _hell_ and know for a fact that I sure do look the part, then you can walk right back out that door.”

“Of-of course not!” Ben assures, shaking his head like it’s on a bobble. Sammy coughs into his fist suspiciously, which Ben seems to catch and shoots a glare at him.

Despite herself, she finds a real smile twitching her lips. “That’s what I thought. Come on, let’s have a seat,” She says, turning to lead them to the living room.

“At least she didn’t middle-name you,” Sammy mutters behind her, probably thinking she can’t hear him.

“Do you even _know_ my middle name?” Ben asks in the same low voice.

“Um-”

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

“Ben, I’m not-”

“If you ever get the chance to visit Betty, I’m sure she’ll be happy to tell you,” Mary interrupts, knowing she startled them both by the halt in their footsteps.

She keeps walking until she reaches the room, then sits herself in one of the chairs. She carefully avoids looking at Tim’s recliner, instead staring down her two guests. Raising an eyebrow gets them moving again, and they quickly seat themselves on the couch.

“Eyes in the back of your head, I see,” Sammy notes with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, we didn’t mean to be rude.”

“It’s alright,” Mary says gently. She has plenty of other things to worry about. She looks at them, and how they’re not quite looking at her, and thinks some small talk would do them good. “How are you liking King Falls, Sammy?”

“It’s… different,” He says carefully. “Pretty quiet. For the most part, I mean.”

She chooses to ignore what that last part implies. “We’re no big city, but we get along.”

“So I see. I… I like Rose’s,” He adds, probably feeling obligated to say something nice.

“You’d have to lack taste buds not to,” Ben snorts.

“We’re pretty famous along the highway because of her,” Mary agrees. “That, and the ghost tours, of course.”

Sammy does a poor job of hiding his grimace. Ben just smiles wider and elbows him pointedly in the ribs. “Sammy here doesn’t believe in them, _despite the overwhelming evidence,”_ He hisses the last part practically in Sammy’s ear, who looks a second away from swatting him back. More self control than her kids, at least, though maybe not by much. 

“Look, before I got here I had never even _heard_ of Major Abilene-”

_“General_ Abilene.”

“Whatever. At least I got the name right this time.”

“Yes, you did,” Ben concedes, and he sounds almost proud. “And you can’t deny that you got lost that night for no _‘logical reason.’_ You’re lucky Troy found you when he did.”

“I know, I was almost late for the show.”

“Or worse! Back in the day, people got lost for days.”

This is clearly an argument they’ve had before. She’s certain they could keep going like this for hours, but she’s not sure she likes where they’re going with this. The supernatural and disappearances and _why can’t anyone help-_ “Was there something I could do for you boys?” She asks, her throat a bit tight.

They both startle and turn back to her, as if just remembering where they are. “Not… not really,” Ben says, shrinking in his seat. He glances at Sammy, as if asking for help. Sammy seems to understand immediately, even without a word exchanged between them.

Huh. She thought they hadn’t known each other for that long.

“We just came here to say we’re sorry,” Sammy says, gentle and low and it’s nothing she hasn’t heard a dozen times already. But he doesn’t tag on a ‘for your loss’, so at least there’s that. And… she can’t quite put her finger on it, but there’s just something odd about the way he’s looking at her, as if wanting to reach out but not thinking it’s his place to. Or that he’s not able to.

“I appreciate it,” She replies, her stock answer. But she feels like she’s missing something.

“A-as I’m sure you know, we were on air with Tim when… when it happened,” He continues, and she’s gotten used to reading _‘abduction’_ between the lines. “And I’m sorry, I’m so sorry that we didn’t do more. I-I tried to tell him to stop, to pull over or something, but I know I- we should’ve done more.”

Wherever she thought this was going, it wasn’t this. She glances at Ben, who can only meet her eyes for a moment before ducking his head, then back to Sammy, who doesn’t move. And he looks so… _sad._ But it’s not the sympathetic sadness of her friends and neighbors, or the hollow sadness she would expect from a stranger.

For a moment, she wonders if the strange thing is that his expression seems almost _understanding._ More than pity or sympathy, but _empathy._ But that makes no sense at all. Nothing like what’s happened to Tim has ever happened before. She’s likely just projecting, selfishly wanting someone else to share her pain.

“You don’t need to be sorry about that,” Mary says firmly, then raises her hand to stop him when he starts to protest. “I’ve listened to the tape – you did all you could from all the way up in that station. You warned him, and you called the police right after and told them everything you knew. You-” She has to stop, for a moment, and swallow the lump that’s built in her throat.

She looks away to finish, down at her hands. Her eyes catch on her wedding ring. She makes her voice steady, even though it wants to shake. “You did everything right. No one could’ve seen this coming.”

When she looks back up, Sammy’s still staring at her, and Ben’s staring at Sammy. But Ben looks away before Sammy can notice. “Yeah, I-I guess you’re right,” Ben says, shrugging a little. “Still, for what it’s worth – sorry.”

“I’m real tired of ‘sorry’s, Ben,” She tells him, and he doesn’t seem to have anything to say to that.

After a moment of tense silence, Sammy clears his throat. “Well, at least you know he’s still alive, right? That’s got to be of some comfort.”

Both Ben and Mary’s gazes snap to him. Sammy appears to sense immediately that he’s said something wrong, shifting in his seat uncomfortably. “Wh-what? I mean, they’re still searching under that assumption, last I heard.”

“Right,” Mary sighs. “You’re not from around here, so you wouldn’t know.”

“Wouldn’t know… what?” Sammy asks, though it sounds like he’s not sure he wants to know the answer.

“Tim and I aren’t Soulmates,” Mary says, watching the realization hit Sammy like a brick to the face. “It’s an open secret – everyone knows everyone’s business ‘round here, you see.”

Sammy’s surprise has fallen into guilt and, good Lord, the man looks downright _heartbroken._ “Mary, I’m-” Sammy starts to say, then seems to think better of it. At least is shows that he’s listening. “I didn’t know,” He settles on. “I swear, I-I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“I know,” Mary says honestly. “I can tell you’re a good man, Sammy. I don’t mind you knowing – you would’ve heard it sooner or later from someone else.”

“Thank you,” He says softly, but still looks like something’s been gouged out of him. Ben watches him for a moment with clear, open concern before he reaches out to put a hand on Sammy’s arm. Sammy noticeably stiffens, but doesn’t move away from the touch, only sparing Ben a quick look from the corner of his eye.

Mary wonders, again, what’s going on between them. But it’s not her place, is it?

“You can go ahead and ask,” She says. There are always questions, so they might as well get it over with.

Sammy doesn’t hesitate for long. “Can you see color?” He asks, a polite way of asking if she’s met her Soulmate.

“No,” Mary says plainly. “But Tim can. I mean, obviously, since he… But he met his a few years before I knew him. I don’t know who she was; he never said, and I never asked.” As far as she’s concerned, it’s just an old story that ended well before they began.

“So, you have no way of knowing if… if he’s alive or not,” Sammy says. It’s not a question, just a sad statement of fact.

“I choose to believe he is,” Mary tells him, and this time she doesn’t have to push extra strength into her words. It’s already there, tapped directly into the well of her heart. “It’s not the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”

“No, I’m sure it’s not,” Sammy replies, wearing that strange look again. At the very least, it’s nice to not be doubted on this. 

“May I ask the same of you? Seeing color, I mean.” Mary feels entitled to at least one answer today.

A new expression crosses his face, one she has even less of a chance of deciphering, but it’s gone in an instant. Even stranger, Ben sits up straight beside him, not slouching for once. Mary’s even more certain that she’s missing something right under her nose.

“Yes,” Sammy answers, but doesn’t elaborate. At his side, Ben’s just as tense as him now, now gripping Sammy’s arm more than gently touching it.

Mary looks between them for a long moment and decides that if she doesn’t ask now, it’ll just become an annoying itch she can’t scratch. And it’s not like there’s any guarantee of seeing them again after this. “Are you boys sure you’re alright?”  
Ben lets go of Sammy quickly, clasping his hands in his lap instead. “Y-Yeah, fine.”

This time, Sammy doesn’t even need a pleading look to come to Ben’s aid. “I mean, it’s been a really weird time for all of us - awful for you and your family, especially. We came here to say our piece, and we really appreciate you hearing us out, but we…” He trails off, brow furrowing, as if frustrated. It makes him look older than Mary’s sure he is. “I-I don’t know, but I think we wish we could do… more.”

She isn’t actually sure that answered her question, but she’s less sure that matters at the moment. “You did what you could,” Mary repeats. “I really couldn’t ask more of either of you.”

“But you could!” Ben blurts. He squirms for a moment under Mary and Sammy’s questioning looks, but makes himself continue. “I-I mean, I can only _imagine_ what you’re going through, but it’s gotta be hard in other ways, too, right? Like having one less person to help around the house?”

That gives Mary pause. He’s right, of course, but no one else had brought it up before. It’s just been something she’s quietly been dealing with on her own - or trying to, at least - on top of everything else.

“Ben’s right,” Sammy says, jumping onto that line of thought. “It wouldn’t be a lot, I know, but if you need help with things Tim usually does - mowing the lawn, cleaning the gutters, whatever - we can do that. If-If you’d like.”

“Oh. That’s… very kind of you,” Mary says, a little taken aback. “But I wouldn’t ask that of you after working late and all.”

“Nonsense. We can easily come by in the afternoon,” Sammy counters. Ben nods in agreement, completing the loop.

“… Alright, then,” Mary relents and allows herself a soft smile. It’s the first genuine one she’s worn in a while. “I’d appreciate that greatly.”

She lets Ben add them both as contacts in her phone before she walks them to the door. “Thank you for stopping by,” She says, really meaning it for the first time in days. “And for not bringing another damn casserole,” She adds in a grumble, making them both crack a smile.

“Getting tired of veggies and pasta?” Sammy asks.

“I think the kids are, though they know better than to complain,” She sighs. “But if they had it their way, of course, they’d be eating chocolate for every meal.”

“Well, be sure to call us!” Ben says as they step out the door. “Anything at all – we mean it!”

“I know,” Mary says, following them to the porch to wave them off.

She watches them make their way to Ben’s car, apparently not having learned their lesson about how conversations are never really private around a mother.

“… You _could_ visit my mom sometime, if you wanted.”

“Ben, no, I couldn’t intrude.”

“But you wouldn’t! She’s _dying_ to meet you.”

“Wait, you told her about-?”

“No! No, I haven’t told her… that. It’s just that I… may kinda-sorta talk about you? A lot? She said she’s… really excited to meet one of my friends.”

“… Alright.”

“Great! We have dinner every Saturday, how about then?”

“Yeah, I can do Saturday.”

The rest of the conversation is lost when they get in the car. Mary waves as they pull out of the driveway and onto the road.

She’s definitely missing something, or maybe a few things. But she can’t find it in herself to worry about it – not when Ben clearly trusts Sammy, and he’s given her no reason not to, either. Everyone’s entitled to a little privacy. Despite the oddness she sensed, she doesn’t think he lied to her once.

The next morning, she finds a covered dish on her doorstep. But instead of another dinner to stick in the oven, it’s a plate of brownies, pre-cut but clearly homemade. She hides it before the kids are up, but when she gets the chance to taste one for herself, she finds that they’re some of the best she’s ever had - county fairs and bake sales included.

There’s also a note attached.

_‘Anything. Just ask.  
\- S.S.’_

********

 

> _Stay vigilant, but most importantly, stay hopeful. And Tim, wherever you may be, just know that your friends, family, and everyone in King Falls is looking forward to your eventual, and safe return._

********

 

Of the few things Sammy kept when he moved from the large house to this tiny apartment, he’s glad he kept his kitchen implements.

Lily took most of Jack’s things, and a lot of the rest went into storage. He couldn’t tell you why he hung onto all his baking sheets, pans, bowls, and spatulas, even though he knew he wasn’t going to put in more effort into feeding himself than ordering take-out or microwavables. He had been certain they’d sit in the crammed cupboards gathering dust the whole time he was here.

But here is on a Wednesday afternoon, pulling out a tray of chocolate chip cookies from the oven; Bella’s special request. Ever since Mary let slip who the goodies were from, the kids pout if he ever comes over empty-handed. They’ve been raised better than to outright complain, but their little faces and woeful eyes say it all - and how can Sammy say no to that?

Sammy hears his phone chime twice in succession, so he quickly places the tray on the section of counter space he’d cleared off just for this purpose. Once he’s got his red oven mitts off, he checks and finds a couple texts from Ben.

**[Ben]:**  
heyyy dude  
so jessie’s having problems again..... 

**[Sammy]:**  
Have you tried turning it off and on again? 

**[Ben]:**  
haha veryyyy funny  
i know you know nothing about cars but that HAS to be a joke 

**[Sammy]:**  
Do you need me to come pick you up? 

**[Ben]:**  
nah i’m at the mechanics now  
it’ll be a bit  
go on without me  
if you care you’ll save me a cookie  
to honor my memory 

**[Sammy]:**  
Yet, you call me the dramatic one. 

**[Ben]:**  
:((((  
and look i know i’m the “fun one” when we go to mary’s  
but that one time i came without you bella glared at me like she wanted to kick my kneecaps in  
apparently my funny voices don’t make up for not bringing our resident muffin man with me 

**[Sammy]:**  
I think she’s tall enough to at least get you in your stomach.  
Also, I’ve never made muffins. 

**[Ben]:**  
buuuut you COULD  
and you should  
i’m putting in a request for blueberry  
AND you can’t say no cuz i’m your sm  
checkmate 

**[Sammy]:**  
You’re ridiculous. 

**[Ben]:**  
thems the rules  
now go leave drury lane  
i’ll see you tonight!!!! 

**[Sammy]:**  
Okay. Text me if you still need a ride by then. 

**[Ben]:**  
:thumbs up emoji: :waving hand emoji: :cookie emoji: 

Sammy shakes his head and pockets his phone again. It doesn’t take long until the cookies are cooled enough to be packed away - but Sammy sets aside a few, since Ben asked. He’ll need a good pick-me-up if it turns out he needs to replace something expensive in that old clunker of his.

Ben… cares about him, for some reason. Even though he was awful enough to him in the first week to make Ben think he _hated_ him. Even though Ben’s found his other SM who he’s clearly head-over-heels for. Even though Sammy doesn’t need or even _want_ to take up a place in Ben’s life. 

Yet he has one anyway - because the universe said so. To Ben, it’s as simple as they’re supposed to be together, so they will. Sammy’s pretty sure Ben wouldn’t be trying so hard to be his friend or so insistent that he cares, or at least believes he does, if it weren’t for the SM thing. But it is what it is, for now.

The most productive thing Sammy’s done since coming to this town is doing things for Mary, though it’s really nothing but small chores. She assures him and Ben that they’re a big help, but Sammy knows it’s nothing that will actually help to fill the gaping hole in her chest. It can’t be too dissimilar to his own.

The winding roads of King Falls don’t give him much trouble anymore, and the drive to the Jensen house is one he knows by heart by now. He arrives with the plate still warm, and listens for the tell-tale patter of little steps after he knocks.

_“Who is it?”_ Bella’s voice calls through the door - she may be able to get at Ben, but she’s nowhere near tall enough to reach the peephole.

“It’s Mr. Sammy,” He replies, and the door swings open almost before he’s finished.

“Mr. Sammy!” She shouts, throwing herself through the doorway to hug his leg.

“Woah! Good to see you, too, kiddo.” He manages to balance the plate on one hand so he can pat her shoulder with the other. 

“Where’s Mr. Ben?” She looks past him, then cranes her head up. She doesn’t look upset, just curious. She’s also not letting go of his leg.

“He can’t come today, but he’s fine,” He tells her. Then, in a conspiratorial ‘whisper’, adds “He says you can have his share,” and taps the covered plate pointedly.

She gasps, face lighting up. “Really?! What is it? Tell me!”

“You’ll see,” He says, and gives her another pat when she pouts at him, though it’s far from her best performance.

_“Bella? Who’s at the door?”_ Mary yells from somewhere inside.

“It’s just me!” He yells back. He decides that they should stop letting the cool air out and head in, but Bella doesn’t seem to want to get off anytime soon. Sammy sighs and drags himself and his passenger through the door, Bella giggling all the while. He makes it halfway to the kitchen when Mary appears.

When she sees them, most of her body seems to relax, and Sammy doesn’t think he’ll ever get over how easily she welcomes him into her home. “Bella, Mr. Sammy is not a jungle gym,” She chides gently. “Let him go now.”

“It’s fine,” Sammy assures, though his leg is starting to feel numb.

But Bella hops off obediently. “Sorry, Mommy. Look, Mr. Sammy has desert!” She says, pointing up at the plate, either as a distraction or she’s honestly just that excited.

“So he does. And what do we have this time?” Mary asks, taking the plate from his hands.

“A special request,” Sammy says, shooting a wink at Bella.

She gasps in more air than he thought could fit in those tiny lungs. “Cookies!”

As if on cue, TJ’s head appears from around the corner. When he sees Sammy, he perks up and runs over as well, though he doesn’t hug him like Bella had. He’s a little older and generally less tactile than his sister, but still a really good kid. “Can we have them now?” He asks, looking eagerly between the adults.

“Maybe one now, and the rest after dinner?” Sammy suggests, biting back a smile as both kids turn pleading looks onto their mother.

It doesn’t take long before Mary relents. “... Alright, that sounds fine.” She peels back the plate’s cover and hands one each to the kids, who chorus their thank yous before running off again, probably to go back to playing in the living room.

Mary shakes her head at them before turning to bring the rest of the plate into the kitchen, and Sammy follows. Mary sets it down on the kitchen table and takes a seat before grabbing a cookie for herself, making a pleased noise when she bites into it. “Delicious as always, Sammy. Thank you.”

“It’s no problem,” He replies, as he always does. He takes a seat across from her and tries not to think too much about the four chairs there, and how one must stay empty at meals now.

“Ben on his way?”

“Not today, he’s stuck at the mechanic’s with car trouble.”

Mary makes a sympathetic noise, and Sammy pretends he doesn’t see her reach for another cookie. “That’s a shame. At least he has you for rides, if it comes to it.”

“... Yeah.” It’s true, but Mary doesn’t even bother posing it as a question. It’s like they’re already a unit in her eyes, even though she has no idea about the SM thing. Sammy doesn’t know how to feel about it - is Ben that obvious? Is _he?_ This feels like _before_ all over again, except nothing is actually going on between them. Or ever will.

“Is it just me, or are the kids more energetic than usual?” He asks, shifting the topic decidedly away.

“Oh no, they definitely are,” Mary replies. “They had a pizza party at school today and it’s gotten ‘em all riled up. It’s… the first time I’ve seen them so happy in a while, honestly.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Sammy says, and means it. He’s always liked kids, but these two especially deserve good things. “And yourself? How are you?” He doesn’t expect more than a terse ‘I’m fine’, but it feels like he should ask.

Mary opens her mouth to say something, but then she hesitates. She closes it and, for a long moment, stares down at her half-eaten cookie like her appetite’s left her. “I almost crashed the car last night,” She says, flat and toneless, as good as dropping a stone on the wooden table.

Sammy sits up with a start. “Oh my god, are you- are you okay?” She doesn’t look injured, and he hadn’t noticed anything wrong with her SUV in the driveway… 

“Fine. I’m… fine.” She lets out a slow, shaky breath. “Just got a little rattled. Not so much as a scratch on me or the car.”

Sammy looks at her tense shoulders and faraway gaze and recognizes the look. It’s someone who’s been knocked over without anyone to help them back up. “Mary, what happened?” He doesn’t know why she’s telling him this, but he’ll be an ear if she needs it. 

Mary doesn’t respond immediately. She sets the unfinished cookie to the side, then clasps her hands together on the table in front of her. “It was late. Completely dark outside. I was driving back from a parent-teacher conference. They had wanted to discuss the… what happened, about how the kids are dealing with it. I got Patricia to watch the kids for me. _Thank God_ they weren’t with me.” She looks more terrified by the possibility that it could have happened than relieved by the fact that it hadn’t.

“I… I was driving home and I… I don’t remember where I was. Off the main road, certainly. Probably not far from the house at that point. I turned a corner, and I was _blinded_ by this light,” She says, and Sammy’s heart plummets. Her grip on her own hands is so tight, her knuckles are white. 

“It-it came from out of _nowhere,_ and it was so _bright_ that I couldn’t see a thing, and-and I was _sure_ that it was the same things that took Tim, that they were coming to take _me_ now. And-and my phone was still in my purse and I knew if they took me right then that no one would _know._ No one would know what happened, even less than Tim because at least people _heard_ that, but even then- even then, no one-” She breaks off into sniffles, and Sammy doesn’t even think before he’s on his feet.

He goes around to her side of the table, grabbing a napkin on the way, and sits in the chair next to her. He wordlessly presses the napkin into her hands, and as soon as she releases her grip to take it, he sees that her hands are trembling.

“I-I swerved off the road,” Mary continues while she dabs at her eyes. “And as soon as I did, the light was gone. I-It was a miracle I didn’t hit anything; not a ditch or tree or boulder. I looked back, and… i-it was a _car,_ Sammy, just another car with its brights turned on so it wouldn’t hit a deer or something. And I couldn’t tell the difference between _that_ and a-a flying, person-snatching _thingy!”_ Although her voice is still rough with tears, now it comes out with force, with _frustration._ “I could have died and left my kids all alone and it would’ve all been _my fault._ Because I’m scared of something that _I can’t see!”_

A sob jumps out of her throat, and her hand shoots up to cover her mouth and muffle it. They spend a few tense seconds in silence, but neither of the kids comes in to investigate the noise. Mary sets aside the damp napkin and scrubs at her face, taking in breaths that make her whole body shake, trying to force back together the pieces she’s fallen into.

“Oh, Mary…” Sammy’s heart breaks for her, but what can he say? It’s not like he could understand - he can see the colors of the lights, if they ever come for him.

… Except he does understand, doesn’t he?

Sammy understands what it feels like to have the one you love more than anyone in the world ripped away from you. He understands how useless the police can be, how it feels after too many days of silence, after it feels like they’ve stopped trying altogether. He understands being scared of something you can’t see, though his is a phantom of weird signs and staticy phone calls and dark ink across pages. He understands being unmoored and alone in the aftermath, not knowing which way is up or what you could possibly do to fix it, despite how much you want to try.

But he can’t tell her about any of that. He won’t even let himself entertain the possibility - he _knows_ he can’t, knows he’s too scared to, knows that’d just be inviting his problems onto this poor woman who doesn’t deserve any of what she already has. 

He also can’t just sit here and watch another person be destroyed by paranoia and fear. 

Sammy puts a hand on her shoulder, hopefully a grounding point. Mary makes one last wipe at her face and looks at him with shiny, red eyes. 

“Mary, you… you can’t let this get to you. I know that it’s so much easier said than done, but you _can’t._ No matter what happens, you’ve got a life to live and people counting on you.” _Unlike me,_ he can’t help but think. But this isn’t about him.

“You think I don’t know that?” Mary snaps, but it’s like the last spark jumping off a petering fire. The next moment, she hunkers in on herself, head bowed and arms wrapped around herself in an imitation of a hug.

“No, I know you do.” He rubs her shoulder slowly, trying to help her uncoil, bit by bit. “I’m just saying that while it’s normal, while it’s _human_ to be scared - it’s also human to hope. And to help. And you’ve got both of those in spades. There’s an entire town hoping for Tim’s safe return, and a hotline, and people on the lookout, and-”

“And you and Ben,” Mary interrupts, and Sammy doesn’t believe for a moment he deserves even half the gratefulness she looks at him with. 

He makes himself speak over his disbelief. “Of course. Ben and I are hoping with you, and helping as much as we can. My point is that you have a lot more than you think, even if it feels like you’re… missing something.”

“But I _am.”_ Mary sighs but finally uncurls, only to go back to staring at the woodgrain of the table. “I mean, it’s been _years_ since I really felt like I was missing something, but I know I am. It’s not like anyone lets me forget it,” She adds with a short, hollow laugh.

She then gets that faraway look again that scares him, but when she speaks her voice is strangely soft. “I fell in love with Tim, and after that I stopped trying to look for my SM. He’s always been the one that makes me happy, and I decided I didn’t need anything else. Because he was _more_ than enough.” Sammy knows well how big of an empty space a love like that leaves.

“And that’s your choice, and a strong one at that,” Sammy says, but Mary still doesn’t look at him.

“My choice,” She repeats. “You’re right, it was my choice. So, does that… That almost makes it feel like it’s _my_ fault, somehow.”

“Mary, that’s… absurd. No one could’ve-” He starts, but she doesn’t let him finish.

“I stopped looking for my colors and now I can’t protect myself or my kids. If I could _know_ instead of guessing, I wouldn’t have to be so damn _scared.”_ Her voice goes tight at the end, that same sharp frustration from before flaring for a moment. She has her hands hidden in her lap now, but he can feel the small tremble of her shoulders.

Sammy gives the one he’s still touching a squeeze before letting go, now doing his own study of the table as he thinks his words over. How much he wants to say, how much he wants to think about. “Well, I… I think we’re all afraid of something. And afraid for someone.” He thinks of hiding and shame, stolen kisses and lying through his teeth, late nights and long arguments, crazy rambling and dead eyes, an idling car and a town that’s yet to give up a single answer. Sammy knows fear. It feels like he’s been afraid all his life. “You _can’t_ blame yourself for that,” He adds softly, lifting his gaze back to her. 

Mary finally looks back, and for a terrifying second he feels as thin and transparent as glass. He doesn’t know what she sees or suspects, but whatever she divines makes her… relax, for some reason. “Maybe not,” She concedes, and although she still looks tired she’s also… less on-edge, he thinks. He hopes. 

Sammy gives her a small smile. “Definitely not,” He says firmly. “And… honestly, knowing that something is happening, that something _could_ be coming - it doesn’t always help. Whatever happened, it’s something that’s hard to understand.” He himself still isn’t sure what happened, or what he wants to believe happened that night - either the one weeks or months ago.

Mary doesn’t respond immediately, but Sammy remembers something. “Did you know that we’ve taken to calling them ‘the triangle lights’?” He asks, and by the blank look she gives him, he’s guessing not. “It’s a safety thing, to make sure everyone’s aware, regardless of their color status. Tim’s description stuck - I mean, whatever they are, he definitely got the best look at them. And the shape will be helpful to a lot more-”

He cuts himself off when her hands shoot out to grab his. She then slowly brings them together in the space between their chairs so that she’s cupping them with her own, his slender fingers within her wider ones. They’re no longer shaking. “Thank you,” She says, soft but steady. Her eyes are dry when they meet his, though that may just be because she’s run out of tears for now.

“I-It was Ben’s idea, really,” Sammy says, thankful that Ben’s not actually here to argue with him. It was a consensus, at best. 

“It doesn’t matter,” She tells him, and the tiny smile on her face feels like a miracle.

They sit in silence for a moment, Sammy listening to Mary’s breathing evening out and the distant sounds of the kids in the living room. Once it feels calm again, he tentatively breaks it. “Are you going to be okay?” He asks, voice soft because he knows how big of a question it is. He already knows his own answer, but he’s hoping hers will be different.

Mary doesn’t take long to think it over. “Yes,” She says calmly. “I… I will be.”

Sammy silently releases a breath. “Good.”

She gives his hands a firm squeeze before releasing him, then stands up from the table. “I really should get started on dinner. Would you mind checking on the kids?”

Sammy knows an excuse when he hears one, but he has to admire the way she’s trying to protect her kids. “Sure,” He answers easily and stands as well, making sure to push his chair back in place. “Maybe I can keep an eye on them while I’m working on the yard? Let them burn off that pizza and work up an appetite.”

Mary throws him a warm look from where she’s already digging in the cabinets. “That sounds nice, Sammy.” 

He’s about to leave the kitchen and do just that, but his eye catches on the unfinished cookie still lying by the plate that holds the others. He grabs it and a whole one, then tries as quietly as he can to set them on the counter by Mary.

She, of course, catches him anyway. She raises an eyebrow at him, but he refuses to be apologetic. “Come on - you won’t offend the cook by not finishing, will you?” He asks innocently.

Although he knows his puppy eyes can’t possibly compare, it takes only a moment before Mary rolls her eyes and puts the half a cookie in her mouth. While she chews, she gives him a look as if to say ‘Happy now?’

“Thank you. I feel very appreciated,” He tells her.

Finished with that one, she picks up the other and waves it at him in a shooing motion. “Go on now! I don’t need you supervising.”

“Of course.”

And if he steals two more cookies on his way out, when he’s sure Mary’s back is turned - well, he’s just doing his part to keep the kids smiling, isn’t he?

Sammy is nearly overwhelmed by her faith - in herself, and in Tim still being out there. He doesn’t know what he’d do without the certainty of warm colors around him, telling him without a doubt that Jack’s alive, somewhere. That there’s still a chance to get his heart, his _home,_ back.

But as the days drag on and his chest grows emptier and he keeps chasing a ghost, he starts to wonder if that’s enough.

**Author's Note:**

> ... Sorry? I feel like I should say sorry. The first friend I showed this to went from "OWO" to "ow" and I feel like that really says something.
> 
> The idea for doing a part focused on someone outside of the core four came to me and got me excited! And I've always thought Mary is an amazing character so I'm glad I could expand on her more in this universe. Also, I actually wrote the first half a while ago, but then I needed a second part. So, apparently, my brain went "You know what goes well with baked goods? Angst!" and here we are!
> 
> **(Updated!)** Up Next: Some things are just better together.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed and you'll stick around to read more!
> 
> You can find me on my podcast sideblog on tumblr [@podcastsmakemecry](https://podcastsmakemecry.tumblr.com/)
> 
> **P.S.** I actually went back and added definitions for all the titles, since I spent so long looking at color theory for these works. Check back if you're curious!


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